All Under Heaven A Halo Novelization
by Tru7th
Summary: Follow the path of Spartan Green Team as the fight for a battered Humanity, unraveling mysteries, find answers, form alliances, and defend a beseiged Earth! Please review!
1. The insurrection of Mamore

**The Insurrection of Mamore.**

Prologue-

Mamore, a desolate place, one of the few planet colonies in UNSC space that has not been glassed by the xenophobic alien race known as the Covenant. Mamore is set in a prime hostile location in the galaxy, rebels and UNSC forces clash for its control. Mamore is a very unstable political world, threatened by several rebel factions. But the rebel group called the Kelorist's, governs the majority of the planet.

To stop this dictatorship, the UNSC sends in a company of Spartan-III's, Alpha company.

August 07, 2537

0319 Hours Zulu /Military Calendar

Tau Ceti System

Mamore

The sun, at it's zenith, shown a brilliant yellow-red radiance. Off clear in the distance, a chain of mountains boasted their snow capped crescents, cutting into the aqua blue sky above. A river slithered like a snake down the ridge, its green edges carving a new canyon path in the mountain. A new figure appeared, a gray beast looms on the plateau, billowing smoke, followed by a rapture of fire, mingling with the morning sky, raging along the jungle's edge.

The pelican listed to port, narrowly missing the jagged edge of a mountain cliff. Balian looked over the edge of the dropships ledge as the craft swiftly floated over the green forest below. He pulled himself back, trying to avoid getting sick by the movement of the tree's. He reassessed, checking and rechecking his gear over again. He was going to do this one right this time.

Spartan- A102 Balian, looked to his team. Though he couldn't see their faces, he knew they were ready for a fight, he felt their energy. Though this was not his first mission, he felt chills down his spine, as he shifted himself in his SPI armor.

Though three hours ago, he had different feelings. The rebel forces on Mamore had greeted the UNSC forces arriving with a welcome gift, consisting of five captured UNSC Longsword fighters, and an array of anti-air batteries. Alpha Company had barely made it through the atmosphere on the Pelican's, had It not been for the UNSC Frigate Resilience, supporting them from the upper atmosphere.

He snapped back into reality as static filled his COM, "ETA to LZ is one minute". The pilot had snapped over the COM channel. Balian's senses kicked in as the stench of smoke, and burning rubber and flesh filled his nostrils. He tightened the grip on his MA5C, and tapped on his COM, "Gamma team, this is Team India, when we hit the ground, set up those heavy weapons so we can take out those AA batteries ASAP."

Not a second passed when he heard a stiff reply, "Yes Sir, we'll roll out the welcome package." Spartan-A009 Greg, answered.

The pelican spun, and dropped abruptly into a hail of gun fire. Assault fire ricochet off the hull of the dropship, pinging its dense armor. The aft of the Pelican scudded across the rough ground, and Team India leapt sprung into action, bailing from the bay of the bird, charging the battlefield.

Balian, along with two other Spartan's, found refuge behind the smoldered wreckage of a Scorpion Main Battle Tank. The tainted smell of lead, and screams of civilians and rebel forces alike filled the dirty air. Balian peered around the edge of his cover, and it was only then that the battlefield became visible. Buildings were ablaze, billowing smoke cast a ghostly shadow over the landscape. Fires ravaged the city, in the distance, civilians ran for cover.

Balian snapped into action, a life time of training kicked in. He clicked on his COM, "Team Gamma, target those AA's on the roof tops, Team Charlie and Havoc, lay down some supporting fire!". Acknowledge lights burned bright green as his Spartan companions complied with their new orders. Balian then turned to his own team, "India, we have our own orders, you know what to do." The young Spartan's nodded.

He turned, firing a volley of fire into the rebel encampment. Balian was surprised at the preparedness of the rebels. The stronghold consisted of two captured Scorpion tanks, embedded behind several rows of sandbags and debris. And three customized Warthogs for infantry. Day's before the assault on Mamore, ONI had deployed probes shot from slipspace, capturing intel on the encampment, the probes report indicated that their were an estimated 3,000 rebel's held up in the colony. Three against one? Those were fair odd's for a Spartan on any day.

Balian sprinted, jotting out from his cover, followed by his team, firing their weapons in succession. He opened his TACMAP, and examined the city, his target was one kilometer away, held up in one of the most fortified positions in the city, the capitol building. He highlighted the building, and the defenses surrounding it, giving the rest of Alpha company their objectives. They would support Team India as they searched for their target, the Governor of Mamore.

Balian sharply raised his hand, balled in a fist. India halted, hunkered down behind a smoldered building. Balian peered from the corner, catching a glimpse of the Embassy. He tapped his COM three times in succession, giving Alpha company the order to Assault the HQ. Seconds later, Balian caught sight of vapor trails and the recoil flash of Rocket launchers as his Spartan's razed the Embassies defenses. A rocket impacted dead on as a hunkered Warthog exploded in a fury of sparks and brilliant flames.

Balian snapped two fingers ahead, and Team India shot out from their cover. Rifle leveled, he fired a concussion of fire into the enemy, he didn't need to kill, only to spread the fire support the other four Spartan teams were laying down, he didn't want to put too much on them. But they were Spartans, right?

Team India reached the outer rim of the buildings entrance, slumping against the charred walls of the Embassy. He held up his hand, and did a trio of hand movements towards the door. India complied, and Sam kicked the door down, moving swiftly through the room.

"Clear!" Sam stiffly replied over the COM.

The team entered, Balian taking the rear. Once he entered, he set his hand on Spartan-A034 Sarah's shoulder, "Barricade the doors, I have a feeling we're not going to be going out the same way we came in."

Sarah complied with a nod, signaling to Sam they use the debris by the stairwell. She reached in her backpack, producing a LOTUS Anti-tank mine, "A little welcome gift."

Sam gave her a thumbs up. Along with Tom, and Minh, Balian proceeded up the stairwell, his rifle trained on the curving corners of the stairs walls. They continued up stairs for two minutes, silently jogging until they reached the top floor. Tom and Minh took the flanks on each side of the only door at the top floor.

"This is it."

Minh reared back, putting the full force of his right foot into the door. The door was ripped off its hinges like a tin can being kicked. Tom wasted no time tossing two flash bangs in succession. There was a quick spark and a thud, and the three Spartan's rushed the room. Minh entered, his M7 Submachine gun burping three round bursts.

Balian was in a moment later, and assessed the threats in the blink of an eye. There were four guards already down. Behind them, banks of security monitors showed a dozen views of the Battlefield. Balian caught glimpse of his fellow Spartans on several monitors, putting up a really good fight.

Three other men scrambled on the ground, trying to shake off the effects of the flash bangs. Balian moved to each of them, quickly and calmly shooting each of them in the head. Balian reassessed the room, scanning the larger than expected room, until he found his target. Tosses a side during the fight, lay the Governor. Still cuffed to the wooden chair and blind folded, he fidgeted, uncertain of anything.

Balian moved to him quickly, picking the frightened man up. He sat him down upright, reaching behind him and breaking the metal cuffs with one hand. Balian tossed them aside, ripping the blind fold from the man's face.

"Sir are you alright?"

The governor fidgeted, blinking profusely until he regained enough strength.

"Yes son, thank you for rescuing me."

Governor John Mitchell reassessed himself, straitening his back, rubbing his burnt wrists. Balian looked the Governor over for signs of shock or wounds, he seemed fine, just shaken. The Governor stood tall, his clothes were tattered, charred dirt covered his defined face.

"Sir I suggest we exit this area, we have a Frigate awaiting you."

"Sounds good to me son, but what about the civilians?"

"They have already been evacuated via Pelican to the Carrier in low orbit, Sir."

The Governor nodded in approval. Balian was surprised when the man knelt down beside the smoldered bloody body of a rebel guard, shaking off the dirt of an M7 submachine gun, checked the clip and pulled back the hammer. Balian turned towards his teammates, "We need to get out of here."

He turned to the Governor, "Sir do you know of any sort of transportation nearby, our Pelican isn't hailing our calls."

The tall man shouldered his weapon and nodded, "There should be a Pelican on the rooftops of the Embassy, but I believe it was under repair before you fellow's came."

Balian gritted his teeth, "That will be more than enough." He waved his hand to Minh. "Get Sarah and Sam up here, tell them to meet us on the roof."

He turned to Tom, "Lets get that Pelican prepared for flight." The young Spartan replied with a crisp salute, "Yes Sir!" And ran out the smoldered door frame, still smoking.

Balian turned his head to the Governor, "Sir if you would be so kindly as to accompany to the Rooftop, we could get underway." The Governor said nothing, taking the lead and heading out the room.

A minute later, Balian and the Governor arrived on the Rooftop, followed by Sarah and Sam and Minh. Balian assessed the Pelicans condition from afar. The aircraft needed more than repair, the hull looked like a grenade was set off directly on it. It was charred Matte-black, a few of the bay windows were seriously cracked.

"At least the landing gear looks good." Sam commented, seeming to finish Balian's thought.

Balian gritted, "Load up team, we still have Spartans to aid."

The team complied, and along with the Governor, climbed into the aft of the Pelican. Balian climbed in last, making his way to the cockpit where Tom already was. He strapped himself in, attaching his rifle to the side of the chair. Tom tapped on a green pad three times, and the Pelican shuddered as the damaged engines screamed, lifting the heavy bird off the landing pad.

Balian turned to Tom, "Does this bird have weapons?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good," Balian tapped a trio of buttons on the Weapons console. The console hummed, arming the Pelicans main weapons, the missile pod's. The Spartan furiously tapped controls left and right, "Tom, contact the Frigate, we have Spartans to evacuate."

Tom nodded sharply, and accessed his COM, "This is Spartan-A014 Codename INDIA, requesting immediate evac of Alpha company one hundred meters south of the Embassy, be advised, package is aboard and safe."

There was a second of dead silence, and then a stiff reply, "Uh, roger that, Pelicans inbound to RZ, ETA One minute."

"Seems the cavalry was already on the way, Sir." Tom replied to Balian.

"Good, take us the southern part of the Embassy, lets give Alpha some help"

The Pelican flew adjacent to the damaged building. Balian moved to the bay of the Pelican, joining Team India, and the Governor. He looked down at his assault rifle and examined it, there were dents and scathes covering the entire rifle. The scope he modified and attached before the mission had been broke off, and the clip was battered. He dropped the magazine and produced a new clip from his rut sack.

Balian clicked his COM, "Team Gamma, Charlie and Meta, this is Spartan-A102, pickup is inbound, hang tight."

There was a stutter of COM traffic, and a weak voice played, "Roger that Sir, please be advised, we have wounded and dead to move."

Balian's chest stiffened, but he pushed his emotions into the deepest part of his mind, this campaign was not over, and emotions got soldiers killed. That's what his commander, Lieutenant Commander Ambrose had taught him and the other three hundred children over five years ago.

The Pelican swooped, leveled and descended. Balian peered at the Battlefield, it looked like a warhead had detonated. Collapsed buildings, burning vehicles and flesh littered and stung the already smoldered atmosphere. A couple hundred yards away, the rest of the Spartan teams recovered. The only signs of the rebel forces were burnt and charred bodies, the rest of the surviving forces must have scattered, or retreated to the mountains to recover and hide. No matter, the UNSC would deal with them and the civilians scattered throughout the damaged and battered city.

Balian exited the Pelican, followed by the rest of Team India, "Sam, coordinate a perimeter with Team Gamma and Meta, recover the bodies, load them on the Pelicans when they arrive."

Sam was already off before Balian could finish, he acted quick and decisively, something he admired most about his closest friend. India followed suit, and quickly melted into the rubble of the battlefield. Balian turned to see the Governor clamber down from the Pelican's bay. The Spartan examined the old man's face, pure shock and grief. He had worked for over ten years to build one of the strongest political colonies in UNSC controlled territories, only for it to be violently cast down by the Kelorist's. The Governors expression changed from grief, to Hatred, he balled his hands into a tight fist.

"Dam those bastard rebel's, and their children," The man said with furrowed brows and a red face. Balian felt his pain, his struggle. The young Spartan also grieved, for his fellow soldiers, his friends. But he quickly stored his feelings aside once again as he was shook back to reality, caused by the hum of a Pelican's engine. He glanced to his right to see the rest of the UNSC forces arriving.

"About time," He muttered to himself.

He attached his assault rifle to his back, and accessed the team roster on his HUD. He accessed the file on Alpha Company, and moved all dead and the rest of the W.I.A to the Missing in action file. He had strict orders to do so if there were any deaths, which was something the UNSC expected on this mission, colloquially dubbed, "A Suicide run." ONI Section two directive Nine-three-Zero, he thought back. When ONI went public with the Spartan-II program it was decided that reports of Spartan losses could cause a crippling loss of morale. Consequently, any Spartan casualties are listed as M.I.A or W.I.A, in order to maintain the illusion that Spartan's never die.

Balian watched with grief as Sam, along with the rest of Alpha company entered the Pelican's, accompanied by the dead bodies of the fallen.

"Spartans never die?" Balian looked to the desolate sky, turned and entered the scathed dropship, "If only that were true."


	2. To kill a Brute

**_All Under Heaven_**

Installment one.

_0927 Hours Zulu /Human Military Calendar_

_September 18, 2552_

_Sol System_

_Africa, Earth_

A pleasant breeze sifted through the cobble stone pillars of the Brute encampment. A quartet of twilight animals mingled with the wind, creating a soft melody. A waterfall pounded softly against a rocky bedrock, drowning the thumps of the sentries footsteps.

In the middle of the small enemy camp, a small Gravity lift glimmered purple and radiant blue as it lifted equipment and weapons cargo to the belly of a Covenant cruiser, its distinguished bulbous deep purple hull glimmered and reflect the crescent moon's silent radiance. A whisper rustle in the night, a sudden pop, and splatter of blood stained a cobble stone wall. A nano-second pause, and the quartet of amphibians and insects resumed their nightly song. A blur of a silhouette arose from the shadows, its odd green ceramic armor shown in the midnight moon, examining the mangled body of the Covenant Jackal. A small stream of purple blood poured from a hole in the aliens soft skull.

"Green-Three three this is Green-One, are you in position, over." A stiffened voice quipped through a COM channel.

"Roger, Green-Four and Two also comply and are in position."

"Good, permission to engage hostile targets, over."

A mellow wind swept through the ravine. A Brute raised his short, razor haired head to examine the cold desolate night air. The beast suddenly slumped to one knee, he clutched his trachea, his stubby fingers fishing for a hole. He felt his throat until he produced a slimy purple mucus, blood. He looked to his pack mates to his left and right flanks, they lay motionless on the cold, wet ground, a dead heap of flesh.

The Brute glanced up to see the weak vapor trail of a Human sniper rifle, before another round penetrated his forehead, splintering his soft skull neatly in half. A human emerged from crept of the shadows, and examined the bodies of the fallen Covenant. He produced an M6D pistol, modified with a silencer mounted on the end, and calmly shot each one in the head twice. He wasn't taking any chances on this mission, not from what he experienced before with wounded brutes.

He heard the rough crunch of gravel on a boot, he Spun rifle raised and spotted Sarah. Though they wore the same armor, Balian noticed her, because of the smaller gait, and her height of only five and a half feet tall. Though he never under estimated her, she was just as strong as him, and had outran him several times when they were under going Spartan training at Camp Currahee. He surmised how long it had been since he was taken from his home planet of Biko by the Navy man at the young age of five, and injected into a world of hatred, fatigue and confusion. He later came to know the Navy man as CPO Mendez, his DI and one of his best friends. He had helped him overcome insurmountable odds, he owned his life to that man.

It had been a long and rough twenty years since he had been indoctrinated into the Spartan program. He had been involved with other thirty military operations, most of those were close engagements with the Covenant. He usually pondered deeply where his Spartan family was, most had been killed in the Suicide missions the UNSC Command sent them on. He, and the original members of his squad, India, were the only Spartan-III's that had survived over the decades.

His grief was his power, the loss of his companions and the only family he ever had, fueled his adrenaline. Gripping the Matte-black stock of his modified S2 AM Sniper rifle, he turned to see Sam and Tom approaching from behind, he glanced between them to see a FENRIS Tactical nuke being hefted. The two Spartan's hastily hauled the ordinance into the center of the gravity lift's platform, tapping a quartet of buttons and actions on the FENRIS's control panel.

Tom stepped back, holding a small LCD panel in his hand, he tapped a control, and the nuke hummed to life, a trio of green and blue lights winked on.

"Sir, nuke is armed, detonator is primed and ready for detonation."

"Good." Balian replied, he turned to Sarah, who was kneeling beside a dead brute, picking up grenades and ammunition.

He knelt down beside a brute, its soft skull oozed purple from a gaping three inch hole. He felt the beasts chest armor, the sleek blue alloy was stained with its own blood. He snatched a small piece off of the aliens, examining it. He stood up, and turned to Sarah. "Here," he said, tossing the small piece of equipment to her. "Use the new language translator software to transmit a message through that Covenant communicator, tell them to activate the gravity lift."

Sarah nodded, reaching into her backpack she produced a small screened panel, she connected a small wire from the control panel to a small slit in the alien COM set. The panel winked on, humming and buzzing, dots and dashes appeared on the screen. Balian noticed that the sound produced by the panel was similar to that of Morse code, though he knew that really wasn't the case. The UNSC issued language software roughly translated the Covenant's primary language, it wasn't completely accurate. The war with the Covenant had really put an immense strain on the UNSC's ability to produce and manufacture new equipment, and weapons to counter the Covenants ever growing ability to adapt and expand.

The newly formed, Spartan Green Team, consisted of all former Team India Spartans of Alpha company. Balian marveled at the hard truth that he, and Green team were the only survivors of Alpha company. The feeling was surreal, but at the same time overwhelming, he always had the notion that whatever kept the universe revolving was keeping him alive for something greater than himself.

The onslaught of Covenant forces on Earth had put extreme strain and stress on the UNSC's supply of Warships, and troops. Their resources were dwindling on a daily basis, and were in desperate need of a victory. Morale was almost completely lost, so the UNSC had pulled together enough resources to deploy Green team on a covert operation off the coast of Zanzibar. There objective: Take out key checkpoints barricaded as security forces for a Covenant Carrier, which was ferrying troops and supplies into the African continent. Once the checkpoints were exterminated, Green team would deploy a FENRIS tactical nuke via gravity lift, creating a chain effect, successfully blowing a massive hole into the Covenants supply trains.

He was shaken back to reality by the crackle of his COM. A Sharp clear voice filled his ear drum. "Spartan Green Team, this is Admiral Lord Hood, do you copy?"

"Yes sir, this is Spartan-A102 Team leader, we will be deploying the Nuke momentarily sir, over."

"That's a negative son, repeat a negative. You have new orders endorsed by myself immediately."

"You are too commandeer that Covenant Warship for the UNSC, are we clear son?"

The Admiral's voice was true and clear, Balian had no argument with new orders.

"Roger that Sir, the new orders will be carried out sir, over."

The Admiral's side went dead, and Balian killed the COM channel. He quickly turned to Tom, "We have new orders, shut down the FENRIS, we're going to have to take the Carrier."

Tom said nothing, he motioned to Sarah and Minh and to the Nuke. Balian stepped in, "Don't cut it down, keep It on a low charge for now, we may need it later.

A slight smile creased the rough features of Minh's face. Explosives were his fancy, his job and passion. He could hot wire any explosives. They were his chosen weapon of destruction. Back at Camp Currahee where he trained as a small boy, the others laughed when they found that he slept with a plastic detonator under his pillow, always flicking the switch back and forth, its all he ever thought about.

Balian turned to Sarah, "Any response on that Gravity lift?"

"Yes sir, lift will be activated in a few seconds."

He turned to face the rest of Green team, "You all know what to do, this is a CSS Class Carrier so the cargo bay will be almost the same as the training exercises."

Instead of verbal responses, he received a quartet of acknowledgement lights, burning green. He knew his Spartan's wouldn't fail him, they acted without a voice, not a question. And that's what he liked.

…..

Green Team slid from the underside of a Covenant Phantom dropship, and leapt from the shadows. Tom and Sarah and Balian took cover on either side of the vessel. Sam climbed into the clambered into the cockpit of the Phantom.

There were at least a dozen Jackal and a pack of grunts scattered along the surprisingly small hangar bay of the Carrier.

Green Team opened fire.

A quartet of Jackals fell from the onslaught of automatic fire. Minh fired his BR55 into the mass of grunts confusingly scurrying around. A round hit the methane tank of one grunt, igniting the small alien, engulfing several of his pack mates. The trio of Jackals that were left had regained their control, and snapped on their personal energy shields. Hisses and cracks of plasma fire filled the hangar bay as Sam fire the Phantoms front turret. The jackals didn't stand a chance, their shields evaporated, and them along with it.

Green Team recovered, their cover was smoldered and scathed with plasma burns a deep scratches. Sam climbed down from the dropship and rejoined his companions.

Sarah rose from the mess, dropped the empty clip from her MA5C, and produced a fresh one, slapping it in the assault rifle. She examined her control panel, showing the Battle net for the Carriers communication system.

"Sir, we don't have much time, a pack of Jackals were sent to investigate the 'disturbance'".

"Copy, do we have control of the oxygen supply for the ship?"

"Yes sir, we have all control of the supply for every section, except the bridge."

"That will do for now, we can take the Bridge when we're done, ok shut off the Oxygen supply for the sections we have control of."

Sarah complied, tapping a trio of controls on the small panel. Balian felt a since of vertigo as the ship's air supply was decompressed rapidly. He glanced at his HUD he checked the oxygen supply left in his EVA armor. The new armor he wore was identical in capabilities to his SPI armor, though instead of infiltration technology, the armor was basically a variant of the Mark VI MJOLNIR armor, worn by his older Spartan-II family. The helmet was aesthetically similar to SPI armor, in fact, it was sometimes mistaken for SPI Helmet renders.

He glanced back at his HUD, he had a little over twenty minutes left. That's good, he though. He had no knowledge of how long any Covenant species could hold their lungs, but he surmised that five minutes was enough. He pondered the odd's of some of the Covenant equipped with zero-gee gear just as the air was decompressing. He would have to take that chance, something he really came to dread over the years.

Several minutes passed before Balian turned to Sarah, "Re-compress the Oxygen supply, stay sharp, their may be some still alive."

He received green acknowledgement lights, and Green Team pressed on. They exited the hangar bay, and made their journey to the bridge. Balian kept his MA5C shoulder high, quickly stepping over the remains of a grunt, whose head, instead of a dark orange was a deep blue, indicating suffocation. A deep purple stream of blood stained the metallic walls of the corridor.

The team of Spartan's moved quickly and quietly, encountering no resistance but instead a furrow mess of bodies littering the halls of the Carrier. The entrance to the Bridge was stained with the Blood of the two dead Jiralhanae guarding it. One still clutched it's think throat in futility. Green Team moved to either side of the large door, securing the right and left flanks. Balian nodded his head to Tom, "Do it."

Tom tapped a hologram on his control panel, and the door screeched open slowly. Balian and Sarah entered first, each moving quickly to each side of the Bridge. Minh, Sam and Tom followed suit, securing the dead bodies of the Covenant that lay dormant.

"Clear." Sam said calmly.

"Good, secure the weapons station and the navigation control's, lets get this ugly bird moving." Balian Announced.

Minh moved to the Weapons station, pulling the dead brute that occupied the seat to the side. Sarah and Tom moved to the Navigation station, "I wish I had more training with these controls before we graduated." Sarah quirked. "You can say that again," Tom countered.

Balian examined the room in its entirety, it was actually smaller than he anticipated. He had the same feeling when they had entered the Hangar bay. 'This was a Carrier, but a small one at that', he thought to himself.

He was shaken from his thoughts by Sarah's urgent voice, "Sir, we have incoming enemy aircraft, looks like a squadron of Seraphs. ETA, two minutes."

Ugh, they hadn't even had control of the Carrier for ten minutes before trouble started to brew. But that was the norm of a Spartans life, something they always prepared for.

"Minh, do you know how to operate the weapons on this thing?"

Minh was silent for a split second, monitoring the controls at the station. "Uh yes sir, the translator software can roughly do most of the work, though the rest will have to be done with mathematical calculations."

"See what you can do, Minh." Balian replied. Minh was one of the smartest Spartan's he knew, always thinking ahead, always planning a way out of any situation.

"Yes Sir, working on a solution."

Balian looked at Tom and Sarah, "Get us moving out of this gulch, CENTOM has sent us coordinates to rendezvous with the Home Fleet."

The two Spartan's nodded, moving a sphere of glowing purple energy, Tom pivoted the ball of energy forward, and the Carrier hesitantly lumbered diagonally, moving from the dark shadow of the canyon and into the stratosphere of Earth's atmosphere.

"Minh, have a target on those Seraph fighter's?"

"Yes Sir, their trailing and tailing, permission to fire?"

"Roger, open fire!"

Minh moved both his hands into the two spheres of energy, forming and directing the power of the plasma into a furious ball of directed energy. He spun the spheres forward, and the plasma exploded from the stern of the Covenant Warship. Balian watched on screen as the thin glowing trail of blue plasma impacted into the squadron of Seraphs. The first fighter incinerated instantly, the explosion creating a ricochet effect, destroying the remaining squadron.

Sarah pushed an octagon shaped control, and the Carrier accelerated forward. Bounded back to the radar station. "Sir, new contacts bearing one five zero, radar indicates there are two Medium-tonnage class Battleships, with a Covenant Frigate taking the rear, we're in weapons range."

"Well I guess a break is too good to be true." Balian remarked.

Balian had studied all the Covenant's known Fleet's and every type of Alien vessel. He knew that Covenant Destroyers were very heavily armed, boasting several plasma turrets, plasma torpedoes, and two squadron's of Seraph fighters. And Covenant Frigates were known to take on whole UNSC's fleets alone. They were equal in size of a UNSC Frigate, only faster and more heavily armed.

"Minh, target the first Destroyer, arm thirty plasma torpedoes and heat plasma turret two through five."

"Sir, I may need to use power from the ship's drive core to recharge quickly as possible."

"Do it."

The Bridges lights dimmed and flickered as Minh directed more energy from the engine to the weapons core. The Bridge was dead silent for a split second, though it felt like an eternity. Balian watched the plasma arched from their holding cells, racing towards the enemy Destroyer. The plasma torpedoes impacted the bow of the vessels purple hull. The ship's shield shimmered silver, and popped.

"Fire the plasma turrets!" Balian announced. The plasma raced from the Carrier's turrets. The enemy destroyer was caught in a dead knot, the plasma impacted, burning its way into the dense hull of the Covenant destroyer, creating a massive crater in the ship, ripping it apart. The bow of the vessel caved in, and imploded.

"One down, two to go!" Sam remarked, keeping his trained eye on the radar, watching for any sign of reinforcements or Seraph fighters.

The second enemy destroyer leapt forward, arcing up into the thin atmosphere, turned and started to descend rapidly towards the captures Carrier.

"Minh, charge plasma turrets three and seven, pull the pins on the remaining plasma torpedoes, redirect 10 from the engines to the weapons core."

"They've fired!" Sarah interrupted.

Balian glanced at the bridges aft screen to see the Covenant Destroyer's hull glow a fierce red, like an angry rattlesnake. A straight line of plasma arced from the ship's hull.

"Brace for impact!" Balian exclaimed, gripping a nearby rail for safety.

The plasma impacted the shield of the conquered Carrier, the shield evaporated, and plasma struck the bow of the carrier. Balian was thrown from his seat, the rail he gripped was ripped from its foundation.

He recovered, reassessing the damaged bridge.

"Damage?" he questioned, looking at the screen, still intact. Tom recovered, picking himself and Sarah to their feet. He tapped a pentagon, and quickly glared at the screen.

"Shields are down and slowly recharging, weapons system still operation. The engines are damaged, there not recharging Sir."

"Do we have enough power to fire once more?"

"Yes Sir, that will drain even more power from the engines, we may not be able to recover."

Balian quickly thought it over, and devised a crude plan.

"Ok, Minh, charge the remaining turrets and torpedoes, target both of the remaining Ship's." Balian said.

Miinh nodded, working his hands over the controls.

"Sarah, plot a course for three zero one, plot a collision course for the Frigate."

Sarah shot him a glare, and smiled behind her helmet.

Minh glanced from his station at Balian, "Sir, Weapons are primed at 87 percent, that's all I can do at the moment."

"That will be more than enough, target the ship's and fire at will!"

The power in the bridge shuddered, plasma shot from the turrets followed by a furious array of torpedoes. The enemy destroyer dipped into the atmosphere as plasma punched a hole in the vessel's sleek underbelly. The destroyer tilted its massive bow into the lower stratosphere, its silver shield glimmering, straining to recover. The ship plunged deeper towards the African coast, meeting its inevitable fate.

Green Team turned there attention to the Covenant Frigate that still stood opposed. The remaining torpedoes dented the ship's shield, weakening it for a moment. A few torpedoes escaped the Frigates shield, only to smear against the thick hull of the vessel. That was more than Balian needed.

Sarah turned to Balian, and there gaze met, "Ram them."

The Carrier raced towards the much Smaller Frigate. The Frigate turned sharply, attempting to outrun the Carrier. "Brace for impact!" Sam exclaimed, as the captured ship rammed the stern of the Covenant Frigate. The aft section of the vessel was crippled by the Carrier dense hull, metal and armor wrenched and sparked as a huge chunk of alloy was twisted and fell into the atmosphere of Earth.

The Frigate maneuvered, attempting to recovered and ascend out of the planet's atmosphere. The plan was futile, as the smaller ship rapidly descended towards the oceans coast to meet the same fate as its companions.

Balian recovered, lifting himself from the deck floor, his chair had snapped from the deck on collision.

"Ugh, well that went better than I expected." Sam quipped.

Tom chuckled, "I'm surprised this heap of metal hasn't snapped in half from all the damage taken."

Sarah reassessed the engines screen, "Weapons system is offline, took too much damage. Engines are operating at 12 percent capacity, but I may be able to get 15 percent."

Balian slowly nodded, "That will have to do for now, we still have to rendezvous with Admiral Hood and his Fleet, though I'm not sure how he's going to respond to a severely damaged Covenant Carrier."

The Carrier reluctantly ventured towards their destination. Balian removed his EVA helmet, and slowly scratched the peach fuzz that covered his head. "A small victory won," He told himself.


	3. The Perilous Adytum

**All Under Heaven**

Seventh Cycle

Thirty-Sixth unit

Aboard the Cruiser _Absolute Truth_

_**117, 498 Years Predating the Human-Covenant War**_.

There was a backdrop of blackness, small pinhole's of light pierced by a massive burning Assault Cruiser. The immense craft was ablaze in the aft sections of the compartments, and appeared to be under attack. In pursuit, nothing. The Cruiser was unorthodox in size, with large narrow extensions. Extremely angular and geometric, it seemed almost to alien. This ship is the _Absolute Truth_.

A large luminous blue-green planet quickly filled the void of space, and the _Absolute Truth _lumbered towards it. The large cruiser was suffering from interior ruptures, still reeling from what was a violent attack by an gruesome enemy. Pearl-white gashes of plasma gushed from various breaches along the rear sections of the main hull, the _Absolute Truth's _state was dire.

On the Bridge the cabin appeared untouched as various beings moved about in front of the translucent viewport. It was complete with calm, lucid beings who surprisingly acted with stark contrast to the unfortunate and dramatic events that engulfed the rear of the ship.

A Humanoid creature stood tall in front of the Bridges main control hub. He was thin, but tall in stature. His face was long and narrow, his eyes covered with slits that ran vertically along his face. Like some of the others, he adorned metallic armor, its chest plate battered and bruised. The other creatures wore eloquent robes that covered their khaki colored skin. Though unlike the others that stood amongst the Bridge, he had a demanding posture, and an intense presence.

His fore name was Vilarius, he had chosen the name for himself, and it had a nice chime to it.

"Will the siege overrun our frontlines, Milus?" He questioned.

"The frontlines are holding well, my excellency. Today, I foresee a great victory upon us. The _Absolute Truth _will not fall prey to the Flood." Milus remarked.

From behind Milus lumbered an impatient and almost Brutish creature. He was much larger than Milus and Vilarius alone. He too wore a breastplate of armor like Vilarius.

"These filthy parasites will fall by our staffs and swords. I am prepared to see this battle to the end, My lord Vilarius."

Vilarius turned to meet the gaze of the creature that spoke, "Rugari, your faith In our ability to wage war is duly noted, but misplaced nonetheless."

From the corner of his eye, Vilarius spotted a female dressed in beautiful eloquent robes as though she was of royalty. The expressions on her face were hard and tense. It was clear she wished to speak her mind, though she exercised restraint and refrained from doing so.

"The Irony of this day is that we will survive, though we still battle them. But no one else will." He said quietly, but loud enough so that everyone in the room could hear him.

"My lord?" Milus questioned.

Milus didn't understand his masters words, but he may as well be the only one. The others in the room were dressed in political clothing, acting as consulates onboard the Cruiser. They were muted from conversation, and resided on the outer fringes of the bridge.

Vilarius turned to his most trusted Military commander, "Rugari, go to the front lines, and bring me your greatest, most trusted warrior. Today, his skill is needed for the gravest of tasks."

The female that sat in the corner of the room stood up, waving her hand to the others, advising them to exit silently. As the last person left, she moved closer to Vilarius.

"So, here we are again, but now your entrusting our entire races fate in the hands of a soldier." She said.

Vilarius stood stronger, and turned to face her. " I won't risk falling to the Flood. It almost happened once, and it won't happen again."

"And what If he uncovers the truth?"

"That will not happen, I have seen the future and prepared for it. Fear not Maelia, everything is working as I have designed it."

……….

In the _Absolute Truth _'s main hangar bay, a violent battle was being waged. The Humanoid warriors were battling the onslaught of the parasite. The flood combat forms charged unorganized and random, but they outnumbered the human defenders indefinably. Blood, both humanoid and parasite stained the cyan-colored floors. Bodies from both factions littered the floor. Groups of the human creatures were being cut down by the relentless parasite.

But one single being trumped the rest. A lean and muscular soldier, his khaki skin was stained with the blood of his fallen brethren. Armed with the massive Scepter of Anduu, he races into the fray. Belted On his sides were Chalice foils, his sidearms. His body narrowly barreled into the conflict surrounding him. He was swift and merciless. With a wide swing from his scepter, he pried the hammer from his taut grasp, destroying a number the gruesome Flood. He was a blurring reconciliation of speed and power, nothing could trump him. With each strike he gave with the Scepter, the long rod emitted a red-colored sickle of light.

His razor sharp skills rendered the Parasite lifeless, until the Scepter was drained of its incredible power. He threw the hammer aside, and unholstered his Chalices strapped to his sides. He again leapt into the fury of the enemy, deftly jarring the flood horde with high concentrations of energy from his two weapons. After a short while, the remainder of the parasite had been reduced to a smoldered pile of flesh and bone. His head perked up from the sound of his commander's voice coming behind him near the rear lines.

"Cephaus report to the bridge immediately! Cephaus report to the Bridge immediately!" The commanding voice of Commander Rugari announced in succession.

Cephaus, the extraordinary warrior was both surprised and curious at the order. He kicked the dead body of a Flood combat form aside, and leaps through the conflagration of bodies and weapons heading towards the rear lines. There he found Rugari, along with several of his comrades. He holstered his weapons, and bowed in honor.

"The Bridge, my commander?" He asked.

"Yes, our Excellency Vilarius, wishes to speak with my best warrior. There are truly none like you, Cephaus. Go quickly and do not make him wait." Rugari answered.

Cephaus bowed once more, and bounded for the control bridge.

…..

Cephaus, covered in blood and flood remains, entered the Bridge. There was only one individual on the Bridge, Vilarius. He was one of the several leaders of their kind. Through chance and circumstance, he happened to be the Military leader of their campaign against the Flood. Cephaus bowed before him, laying his weapons on the floor and became prostrate. Vilarius turned to greet him.

"Rise, my dear friend."

He took a step to Cephaus, and the warrior rose from his stance. They were nearly the same in size, Vilarius was grizzled and broad, while Cephaus being young and taunt. The younger warrior was curious about the visit, but restrained from questioning his master. The two began to walk, side by side around the bridge.

"You may be pondering why we brought you here. And what your purpose is."

"I am, my lord." Cephaus answered quietly.

" 'Cephaus', what a great name for a warrior. Do you know its origins?"

"It means, 'Unwavering protector' in the Anduu language." Cephaus answered.

"Yes, so you are not only a great warrior, but an educated man as well." Vilarius added.

They stopped near the viewpoint of the Bridge, and glared at the beautiful blue-green planet. Vilarius' voice was intense and manipulative, while Cephaus remained stoic.

"Do you know what this is, Cephaus?" The Master asked.

"Yes, it is the housing perch for our central defense. It holds the first installation: The Ark."

"That is correct, do you know its purpose?"

"All the warriors of Anduu are required to learn the pledge of the 'Seven rings.' It is part of our birthright." The young, stoic warrior answered.

"Can you recall the final passage for me?" Vilarius questioned.

Cephaus became overtly suspicious as another explosion from the Central hangar bay rocked the Cruiser. He seemingly wondered what purpose this conversation has in light of their current situation. But he recited the last lines of the passage anyways.

"In the event of complete loss, as a last hope of restoration, one must activate the first ring to allow the secure passage of our kind. And further, the complete annihilation of the parasite. It is the only hope for all sentient life."

Vilarius smiled at the knowledge of his fellow warrior. "it's the only hope for our way of life you know. 'The Pledge' is perfect in truth, would you agree?"

"I do my Excellency, but surely that time is not now."

Vilarius became sullen and grave. Cephaus continued, "The activation of the rings was a last resort. For hundreds of years we have been able to fight the flood, to defend our worlds. It never came to such a threat."

"As we speak now, my friend, the plains of Anduu are ablaze. The Temples of Kalamanni and Saous are in shambles, destroyed by the Gravemind creature and his horrors. The Flood have reached our very homes in despite of our Crusades, they have won. I have received this information only moments ago."

Cephaus' mind raced across the galaxy to the places he once called home. He could only imagine the lush green plains of the planet Anduu, burning. The Flood combat forms scurry through the once peaceful habitat under the cover of night, while defenseless farmers are torn to shreds. He imagined the porous ivory temples of the planet Saous being overrun by the roots and membrane of rampant flood infestation. Various forms amble around, and despite it being the middle of the day a gaseous smog covers the sky.

Cephaus was emotionally shaken, bewildered at the horrid images. He became angry, his brows furrowed, and he clutched his fist into a ball.

"My family, my home." he muttered.

"They are good as dead, Cephaus. There is nothing at our homes for us any longer."

Cephaus couldn't help but imagine a beautiful day on his homeworld of Anduu, its lush landscapes and flowing water falls. But there is another frightful image. The cluster of home's that line a cresting hilltop are filled with swarms of flood forms like running water, swarming through the territory. It seemed impossible for anyone or anything to have survived this outbreak.

"You know the power of the Flood. Once it consumes it's victims, they are no longer what they once were." Vilarius said.

"There is only one way to stop them…." He added.

"The Pledge." Cephaus said.

"Commander Rugari chose you because you were his best and his bravest. Today will be your most sacred mission. In short time, we will sever the Flood in the main bay's, ensuring the parasite threat on our ship will be abated. You will take a single Spore craft out the aft side and drop into the planets surface at the gateway. There, you will make contact with the monitor, and instigate 'The pledge'."

Cephaus nodded, "In doing this, all intelligent life will die. Are there no stragglers? No survivors that can be saved?" He questioned.

"We have lost complete communication with all. At modest estimations, we can only assume the worst. You will, of course find the sustained hollow to retain your current heath and age while you await our return."

Cephaus was crestfallen and concerned. Conflict in his face was clearly expressed.

"Do not doubt yourself, Cephaus. You will become a hero of ages. The Guardians will look down upon you with pleasure, as your fame is learned by all unto infinitude. Are you prepared?"

"Yes, my Excellency." Cephaus replied, bowing his head in honor of what had just been bestowed upon him.

"Then go forth, 'Unwavering Protector', today your name becomes your destiny."

Cephaus bowed once more, turned and left the empty Bridge. The door quietly shut behind him as he made his exit. The Bridge suddenly sunk into a deep dead silence. Hidden in the shadow recesses of the room, Maelia approached Vilarius.

"You smell of sulfur when you lie, I do believe he suspects something."

Vilarius turned, directing his gaze upon the politician.

"He is a mindless tool, that is all. Today we will accomplish what we have throughout our history. The restoration process is a necessity for you and I. It is the only way we can exist forever." Vilarius countered.

"Not this time, Vilarius. I am afraid we will all perish. The Guardians have whispered this too me."

……….

Cephaus carefully strapped himself into the small, cramped cockpit of the Spore-craft. He was tense and deliberate with every action he took, almost unexpectedly. His eye's were moist and wide-open. He was angered and fearful, yet determined to succeed at the mission bestowed upon him. With a loud crack, and a blinding pulse of light, the small sport-craft was jettisoned from an open bay and into the planets atmosphere.


	4. The Fields of Interment

All Under Heaven

Installment Four

Ninth Cycle

Second Unit

Ark Installation- Zero

**117, 498 Years Predating the Human-Covenant War.**

The ice continent remained, by-in-large, silent, save for the occasional howling of the wind across the snow banks and glaciers. The night's sky was bright with stars and a full Moon glimmered. At the end of a rocky outcropping, icicles began to shake. Soon they begin to snap and shatter, mangling their perfect shapes.

The sound emitting the rumble became louder and louder until a ball of fire formed in the sky. The furious ball was coming closer and closer every passing second. The ball of fire slammed into the ice shelf like a meteor. The Spore craft broke a path across the snow and ice, bouncing violently until it stopped suddenly by a wall of ice. A trail of melted snow and steam stretched behind the small vessel.

The small hatch opened with a heave and Cephaus climbed out. He grabbed several weapons and a small satchel from the interior of the pod, and close the cockpit's door. He clambered down from the ship and made his long arduous to his destination. Cephaus made his trip along the frigid landscape, eventually arriving at the base of a rigid mountain. Near a large rock that was connected to the foundation of the mountain, he took a small silver box from his satchel and placed it on the ground.

He stepped away for a second. A moment later, luminous red markings illustrated themselves on the rock. He pressed certain strange symbols in a sequence, picking up his silver box, he turned and returned on his walk. He reached another outcropping of rocks, and repeated the same sequence and then a third time, surrounding a specific area in the shape of a triangle. With a jolt, the ground opened its gaping jaws, dropping the snow below. Without a moment of hesitation, Cephaus pushed himself into the abyss of the dark hole.

In the depths of the massive cavern, Cephaus cautiously walked across the ice constructed floor. Streams of moonlight helped very little to guide his path. He knelt down, producing an artificial light from his leather satchel. He pressed a hexagon symbol on its shaft, igniting it. The light illuminated a massive wall before him. The wall appeared to be a composite of lead, ice, and metal. Various elaborate symbols and illustrations were etched into the metallic door. Cephaus approached it with brazen determination and began to place him hands on certain symbols.

His movements were swift, fluid and deliberate. With a final touch, the massive wall began to tremble and shake. The immense sound of granite stones filled Cephaus ear drums, he stepped back, almost as if he were struck. The wall cracked along the natural lines of ice that covered the room and opens from inside. There was only a deep abyss of darkness beyond the door, and Cephaus struggled to peer inside. From the shadows emerged a sweet humming sound followed by a dazzling green light. A small sphere emerged, floating towards the Anduu Warrior. It sphere spoke with a pithy, light hearted manner as it hovered in front of Cephaus.

"Welcome, Creator! I am Zero-One, the monitor of all aggregate systems in Installation Zero-One. I've been expecting you and I'm looking forward to our time together. How may I be of service to you?" The sphere said.

"Would you like me to prepare for you the carbon-sustainment hollow?"

"No, not yet Oracle. I wish to explore more of this facility." Cephaus answered his new friend.

"Have you ever been to an installation before, Creator?"

"No, but I am familiar as It is my duty."

Side by side they passed through the familiar terrace corridor. The large corridor presented a view of the vast enclosed sections of the Ark. Cephaus noticed the various types of Flora covering the seemingly never-ending stretches of land. He took notice of the divots and pockets in the ground, some of them even having budding spores. Concern and curiosity consumed his face.

"I recognize those, it looks familiar. All of this looks familiar."

"You seem amazed by it, as though this is the first time you've seen such a thing." The Monitor answered him.

"What is it?" Cephaus asked curiously.

"Why this is the 'Field of interment', our quarantine zone."

"What does it 'inter'?" He asked.

"Well of course, you are testing me now. I am thrilled to take part in this exam and will proudly perform-"

'This is no test, monitor. What lies out there on the fields?"

The Monitor's green sphere glimmered even brighter, he seemed almost caught off guard.

"The Flood. This is where we harvest them."

Cephaus stood momentarily. He was frozen and jarred by what he glared at. There were millions of them, lying on the fields.

"Harvest the parasite? What do you mean?" Cepahus questionably demanded.

"This is where we grow and contain the flood." The monitor answered, with a pithy tone in his voice.

"Within the weapons? You are lying, petulant machine. Tell me the Truth!" Cephaus demanded.

He quickly became angry, violently so. He reached and grabbed the construct out of the air and yanks him to within centimeters of his face. His anger overcame any emotions he could be capable of at the time. He was enraged.

"Caution, Creator. I've been given orders for your termination if you were to become unruly."

Five sentinel majors appeared from an aperture in the upper-section of the corridor, their bulbous eye's glowed a light red. They hovered down to Cephaus' level, showing the threat of force. Cephaus responded, throwing the Monitor into the nearest Sentinels hovering eye, causing it to reel backwards and explode. He reached for his Scepter of Anduu, and leaps upon the next one, severing both eyes and then its flight mechanism, causing it to fall to the ground. Atop the falling sentinel, he flung his scepter at the furthest enemy, splitting its body cleanly in half. In the same unwavering motion, he removed the Chalice coils attaches to his rear holsters and fires directly into the two remaining drones. All of the sentinels fell to the ground, rolling to a stop in billows of smoke and sparks. He landed, still atop the crushed sentinel, and returned his Chalices to their holsters.

"Creator, you must not resist." The construct moaned.

The Monitor was pinned underneath the first sentinel Major, squirming to be removed. Cephaus, slowly and methodically steps from atop his second prey moving to his third, removing his scepter from the crushed shell of his enemy. He sheathed the hammer-like weapon, moving to the fallen monitor. He knelt down and pulled the construct from the pile of rubble.

"Caution Monitor, I need not orders for your termination and I will not hesitate to execute the fury of my will. Send ten thousand sentinels and I will crush every single one. If permanence is is what you seek, then cooperation is your only option. What shall it be?"

"Very well, Creator. I will concede this point, per the previous scenario."

"I want answers." Cephaus calmly demanded.

"Ask."

"Who did this? Who would contain the Flood in the very weapon designed to kill them?"

"Why, the Architect would." The construct answered.

"Who designed it, Monitor?"

"That information is restricted, even from me."

"What is the purpose of this installation?"

"To Study and contain the flood and in the event that the Flood would escape, to be used as a last resort."

"Has this installation been used before?"

"Yes."

"By whom?" Cephaus persisted.

"By the progeny of the Architect, I would assume. It was important to my programmer that I was not aware of their intentions. But that I was to execute them with precise exactitude."

"Then why would they harvest the Flood on a weapon that was meant to kill them? Were they working on a cure?"

"Negative. They studied containment, genetic potential and ability of the contagions to spread within a given population, during any weather restraint. Quite the opposite. They wanted the parasite to be strong, incurable.

"Were they responsible for the release of the Flood?" Cephaus asked.

"I cannot answer that question, it is not within my programming perimeters."

"Who created the Flood?" Cephaus finally asked to Construct.

"Why, the creators of this ring." The Monitor answered.

Cepahus couldn't believe what he was hearing. For him, it was unthinkable. And now, after Billions of lives had been extinguished, he was realizing that there was more to his mission than he was being told. He was shaken and distraught. Cephaus finally released the Monitor, and fell to the floor in anguish.

"In the event that you were aggressive, I was programmed to execute your termination. I can no longer do this." The monitor said calmly.

"Then perhaps you should kill me, friend?" Cephaus spoke intensely.

The Monitor hovered down to Cephaus' level. "I have calculated the likelihood of your previous proposition. And while I expect that you would become worn and tired, there is a 99.9989 probability that you would destroy this stations interior defense, and eventually, myself. In this case, I would prefer servitude rather than death."

'My programming is at your disposal, as is the programming of all seven installations and their individual monitors."

Cephaus slowly stood to his feet, hiding his intense grief for a moment.

"From henceforth, you will be known as 'Shameful Anomaly', for you are an aberration of hope and because I have been forever deceived. Your fellow constructs will follow suit with these orders."

"And what is your command, Creator?"


End file.
